Trish Milburn

Her Cowboy Groom


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her free hand atop Chloe’s. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think anything is going to help how I feel right now other than time. Or possibly a lobotomy.”

      The helpless look on Chloe’s face nearly made Linnea cry again. But, bless her, Chloe nodded before she leaned forward and wrapped Linnea in her arms. Linnea had to bite her lip to keep tears from falling.

      “You need anything, no matter how small or how big, you let me know. I know you like to be alone to deal with things, but sometimes it doesn’t feel right, like now. It feels like I’m abandoning you.”

      Linnea pulled away. “You’ve given me the one thing I need most, a place to get away.” A place to hide, a voice in her mind said. “Though I do feel bad about being in the way of your dad and brothers.”

      “Don’t worry about that. And you know they’ve always liked you.”

      “Did you tell them what happened?”

      Chloe shook her head. “No. That’s not my place. Though Dad knew the wedding was off when I talked to him last night.”

      Linnea nodded. “I told Owen since I showed up out of the blue. Sorry I didn’t call you back and let you know I was coming. I wasn’t thinking.”

      “No need to apologize. You’re here now, and you can stay however long you want to.”

      “Thanks.” She glanced toward the sun streaming in the window, the cheery brightness so at odds with her mood. The downpour the night before had been a more suitable match.

      Chloe stood, drawing Linnea’s attention away from the window. “I’ll go and get out of your hair. Make yourself at home, okay?”

      Linnea nodded. When she heard the front door close, she tried to force herself from the bed. But in the end, she slid back under the covers and sank into her heartache again. In that moment, she hated Michael every bit as much as she’d ever loved him. This time, her tears were born of anger that he’d made her feel this way, that he’d stolen her will to even get out of bed and face the day.

      When she woke again, the morning was about to give way to afternoon. She ached even worse than she had earlier that morning, and that, more than anything else, prompted her to finally get up. She walked to the window and looked out over the gentle rise and fall of the ranch that spread for miles. It was so different from where she’d grown up and now lived in Dallas, but she’d always liked it. She’d never met anyone who fit their surroundings more than the Brodys. It was as if the land were a member of their family, their flesh and blood. The closest she’d ever come to that kind of connection with a place was her shop, but when she thought of it now it felt as if that relationship had been stabbed in the heart, as well.

      Linnea forced herself to pull some clean clothes from her bag and head to the bathroom. A shower wasn’t going to heal her wounded heart, but maybe it would make her feel halfway human again.

      She stood under the steaming stream of water, soaking the heat into her aching body, trying to forget why she felt so wretched. But the more she tried to forget that she’d nearly married an already married man, the more that horrible truth burned itself into her thoughts. By the time she got dressed and left the bathroom, she felt as if she’d worked an entire day. Who knew having your heart stomped on could be so exhausting?

      When she reached the kitchen, it was past lunchtime. But she still nabbed a chocolate glazed donut from a bakery box. As she took the first bite, she noticed a note with her name on it sitting in the middle of the table.

       Gone to get your tires fixed. Back later. O.

      She smiled a little bit. Underneath the party boy exterior, Owen Brody just might have a nice streak in him.

      She walked slowly through the house, pausing to look at familiar family photos. She was even in a couple of the snapshots with Chloe from their college days. They looked so happy and carefree. Hard to believe that little more than a day ago, she’d still been happy. But that emotion seemed so far away now.

      Shaking her head at the self-pity that was threatening to consume her whole, she headed out onto the porch and the heat of the day. She stopped short when she saw her car parked in the graveled area between the house and the barn. Part of her sorrow gave way to guilt. While she was sleeping the morning away, Owen had already gotten her tires fixed and brought her car back to the ranch. She scanned the area but didn’t see him. No doubt he was already out riding on the back forty somewhere, doing whatever ranchers did every day.

      Despite still feeling shaky, she descended the steps and started walking. The day was quite warm, but she didn’t care. Though she spent most of her time indoors working, there was something therapeutic about getting out in the sunshine under a wide blue sky. It almost made her believe things weren’t so bad.

      But they were.

      She walked the length of the driveway and back. When she approached the house, Roscoe and Cletus, the Brodys’ two lovable basset hounds, came ambling around the corner of the porch.

      “Hey, guys,” she said as she sank onto the front steps and proceeded to scratch them both under their chins. “You’re just as handsome as ever.”

      “Why, thank you.”

      She jumped at the sound of Owen’s voice. The dogs jumped, too, probably because she had. She glanced up to where Owen stood at the corner of the porch. “You made me scare the dogs.”

      “Sorry. But I was taught to thank someone when they pay me a compliment.”

      She shook her head. “Nice to see your ego is still intact.”

      “Ouch.”

      She laughed a little at his mock affront, something she wouldn’t have thought possible that morning. She ought to thank him for that moment of reprieve, but she didn’t want to focus on why she’d thought she might never laugh or even smile again. Instead, she nodded toward her car. “Thanks for getting the tires fixed so quickly. How much do I owe you?”

      “Nothing.”

      “I’m perfectly capable of paying my own bills.”

      “I’m sure you are. Still, I don’t think fixing a couple of flats is going to send me to the poorhouse.” With that he tapped the brim of his cowboy hat and headed toward the barn.

      As he walked away, she noticed how nice he looked in those worn jeans. No wonder he didn’t have trouble finding women.

      Oh, my God! She was looking at Owen’s butt. Owen, as in Chloe’s little brother Owen. The kid who’d once waited on her and Chloe outside Chloe’s room and doused them with a supersoaker, the guy who had earned the nickname Horndog Brody.

      She jerked her gaze away, suddenly wondering if she was mentally deficient. First she nearly married a guy who was already married. And now, little more than a day after she found out she’d nearly become an unwitting bigamist, she was ogling her best friend’s brother’s ass.

      Unsettled, she went back inside, but instantly felt at a loss for what to do. She was normally hawking wedding gowns, veils and tiaras, everything to make a bride feel like a princess on her special day. Now the idea of even stepping foot into her store made her stomach turn. She knew she’d have to find a way to get past that. She had too much invested in the shop, and she couldn’t leave Katrina in the lurch for too long.

      Her heart stuttered when she realized her own fairy-tale gown still hung in the back of the shop. After weeks of admiring it every day, she knew she never wanted to see it again. She grabbed her phone and called Katrina.

      “Hey, sweetie,” Katrina answered. “How are you doing?”

      It was a miracle Linnea had remembered to even call Katrina the day before to let her know she was going out of town for a few days. In fact, she’d been an hour out of Dallas before it dawned on her.

      “I’m out of bed, which is more than I thought I’d accomplish today. How are things going